


Cheiloproclitic

by riththewarluid



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Flirting, Longing, One Shot, One Word Prompt Meme, lips, one word prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-03
Updated: 2016-05-03
Packaged: 2018-06-06 05:13:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6739438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riththewarluid/pseuds/riththewarluid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Green eyes and pink lips an awkward meeting make.</p>
<p>Rated GA, but there is flirting and intense physical attraction (though nothing graphic!), so if that's not to your tastes you are now forewarned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cheiloproclitic

**Author's Note:**

> Cheiloproclitic - being attracted to someone’s lips

The quirk at the corner of her mouth deepened, pushing her cheek higher and casting a shadow along the side of her lips. He sighed, tracing the curve with lidded eyes. This woman was driving him mad. He had thought that by avoiding those eyes, unnaturally green like the cursed light on her left hand, he might spare himself the heat of lust that seemed to rush over his cheeks around her. ‘Lips are safe,’ he had told himself. Surely she wouldn’t notice his gaze if they rested solely on her mouth; warm pink with rouge and constant agitation from her teeth, quick to smile and quick to snarl, wide and slightly uneven. He knew now the way her upper lip projected over her overbite, how many cracks ran along the flesh of her lower one. He had forbidden himself from the feelings that were wracking his system, the little thrill that raced along his spine when her tongue wiped away a lingering drop of wine that clung to the corner of her mouth, but damn if they weren’t persistent. 

“Maker help me,” he breathed, his brows furrowed low above his eyes and his lips pressed together tightly. He’d never been so attracted to one person before, to their mind and voice and wrists and the little space below her lower lip and the top of her chin. He wondered what she would taste like if he licked just there, along her tongue-dampened skin, if he swept his tongue over the dark line that marked lip from flesh and tasted the little hollow at the corner of her mouth, the one that kept deepening as he stared. He watched her upper lip part from her lower, revealing her endearingly crooked teeth and her sharp canines. She was speaking, but Maker’s breath he’d never hear the words. The quirk became a grin, amused by something that he’d missed. He was too entranced by her mouth, how it pronounced her slightly accented Common, too busy imagining a kiss, a lick, a suck, how it would look when she gasped as he-

A sharp jab in his side from a very sharp elbow made him suck in his breath and tear his eyes from her in irritation. Sera, all toothy grin and waggling eyebrows, was staring at him.

“What?” he barked, rubbing his side and glaring at her. He swung his head to look back to the Inquisitor, froze still when he realized that everyone at the council table, even her, was staring at him with differing levels of amusement. Cullen looked like as red as a radish, Vivienne just lifted an eyebrow at him while delivering a look of cool disinterest. Feeling a flush steal up his neck, humiliation chasing away his lust and daydreams, he swung his eyes back to the Inquisitor, his heart skipping as he saw the amusement, and the lust, shining at him. Awkwardly, he ran a hand over his face and ruffled his beard before smoothing it back down, dropping his eyes to her mouth once more and then to the table in front of him. 

“M’lady?” he grumbled, willing himself to sink into the floor. Maker he was like a young schoolboy again around her. 

“Ser Blackwall,” she purred, her lids falling so that half-moons of disconcerting green eyes watched him. “Thank you for rejoining the conversation.” She moved her gaze to a stack of untidy papers in front of her, gathering them in her hands and tapping them back into order. “I’m sorry to, ah...” her warm eyes caught his once more and a wicked smile pulled one corner of those damnable lips, “suck you from your daydream.” She turned her attention back to her papers nonchalantly, while Cullen choked on his water, Dorian and Sera traded delighted grins, and Blackwall sunk even lower into his seat, shifting his thick leather tunic and his pants and trying to focus on the task at hand.

Maker this was going to be a long meeting.


End file.
